Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Liberia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Pharoah Sanders to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every EPMD record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
Matthew Halsall,
New Order,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fire Engines,
The Count Five,
Todd Rundgren,
Scrapy,
The Misunderstood,
Y Pants,
Graham Central Station,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Loose Ends,
the Slits,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Little Man,
Scott Walker,
Harry Pussy,
Bad Manners,
Neu!,
John Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
Lalann,
The Gun Club,
Altered Images,
Slick Rick,
Popol Vuh,
Talk Talk,
Mars,
Barbara Tucker,
Ten City,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Depeche Mode,
Flipper,
Anakelly,
The Doors,
Lou Christie,
Howard Jones,
Deadbeat,
Marmalade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Index,
Colin Newman,
Rotary Connection,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
K-Klass,
Underground Resistance,
Byron Stingily,
The Gap Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Green,
The Moody Blues,
Scan 7,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.